


Fate and Other Fairy Tales

by BreakFreeKillerQueen (Johnlocked221b)



Category: Blame the Hero (Web Series), Brandon Rogers - Fandom, Stuff and Sam (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Because Brandon Rogers portrays nearly everyone they all have similar faces, Bobby Worst is a horny terrorist, Brandon Rogers Cinematic Universe - Freeform, Elmer abuse, F/M, Gen, Gun Violence, Heavy Angst, I took something funny and made it sad, I write what I want to read, If you've found this story you know Brandon Roger's work and you know what you're getting into, Mentions of Sex, Mutual Pining, Pining, Requited Unrequited Love, Some Humor, Stabbing, Swearing, The BRCU needs more fanfiction, Unrequited Love, no actual smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:15:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24597367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johnlocked221b/pseuds/BreakFreeKillerQueen
Summary: A look at the events of Blame The Hero from the perspective of two assholes in love
Relationships: Bryce Tankthrust/Bobby Best, Bryce Tankthrust/Bobby Worst
Comments: 10
Kudos: 22





	Fate and Other Fairy Tales

* * *

Bryce Tankthrust was never an affectionate woman and would never pretend to be. Growing up in a single-parent household, and with that parent being a highly successful lawyer with a no-bullshit, no fuck-up’s, and absolutely no weakness policy, she could count on one hand the times she’d received a hug from her mother and still have fingers left over.

Bryce’s mother was a cunt, to put it nicely. She was cold and manipulative toward every human being in her life, including and especially to her own daughters.

She was Bryce’s fucking hero.

When Bryce was 7 years old, she met Bobby Best. He was a frail child with a wild temper and possibly the most dysfunctional father-son relationship she’d ever witnessed in all her seven years. The boy was mercilessly teased in PE and despite her desperate need for social validation, she stood up for Bobby against those other brats. In the way that children do, they became friends almost immediately and both, feeling a new sense of companionship and understanding no one else had ever given them, developed an innocent crush on one another; formed by mutual ostracization and strengthened by the hot summer sun.

To this day, 40 years later, Bobby Best was the only person in the world Bryce Tankthrust had ever loved.

Their friendship lasted only 24 hours, but in that time, Bryce had the world in her hands. Bobby made her laugh until she cried and that night, they talked, secretly on the phone, for hours. Bobby looked at her like she put the sun in the sky and she would be lying if she said that didn’t make her feel like the most important person in the world.

As they lay in the dewy grass that day, grinning at each other under that hot sun and discussing the philosophy of fate and their every decision bringing them together for this very moment, Bryce made a secret promise; to herself and to Bobby: _I’m never going to let it go._

But like all good things in Bryce’s young life, the joy and innocence of childhood was short-lived. It all came crashing down around her, when in a moment of pure devotion to her new and very best friend, she’d presented her own beating heart; freshly pulled from her ribcage and held aloft like the precious gift that it was.

Bobby Best, in an admittedly appropriate reaction to seeing such gore and carnage, lost his lunch all over it; tainting both her heart and her entire worldview. A chorus of laughter hammered at her skull; the teacher joining in the act of pushing Bryce Tankthrust to the extreme bottom of the totem pole. You did not come back from something like that.

Bryce’s heart slipped from her slick, blood-soaked palm and landed on the hot asphalt below, breaking in two like some kind of dumbass metaphor. From where she knelt, it seemed as if glitter exploded from the damaged organ, scattered around it along with all of her joy and laughter. Every good and pure thing that made her who she was laid out on the ground at Bobby Best’s feet and she was being ridiculed by the rest of their second grade P.E. class.

She only stared at it for a few seconds before standing in a rage and charging her teacher with the same knife she’d used to carve out her very soul. She plunged the blade into Mr. Best’s gut several times before turning it on the rest of the class. Despite feeling woozy and weak, Bryce threatened the lot of them and fled, stomping on her stupid broken heart as she ran.

She never looked back, knowing that what she had with Bobby, as wonderful as it was, was over. She had to grow up now; love was for pawns and the easily manipulated. Now, she craved only power.

When she got home early, her mother didn’t even question it, the tear tracks on her cheeks, or the red staining the front of her gym shirt. She simply received a glance and then her sister, that stupid, fussy little monster, began wailing again from upstairs.

“Bryce, will you see what your sister is crying about now? I need to make another phone call.” Mrs. Brownstein picked up the landline and then turned her back on Bryce to signal the conversation was over. Helen was her responsibility until mom got off the phone.

Bryce quickly changed her shirt as little Helen cried, her little face wrinkling like an old lady’s already. She never stopped when Bryce held her and Bryce was convinced that Helen just didn’t like her. So much for girls sticking together. Bryce was alone now.

Oddly enough, she was okay with that.

“Hearts are a waste of time, ” she explained to her sister as she sat criss-cross on the floor with her, Helen sitting up and looking around for something to chew on, “I’ll teach you to ignore it. They’re just stupid. We’re better off with these.” Bryce tapped the baby’s forehead lightly and then smiled when the little one tilted her head toward the touch.

* * *

As Bobby sat in his cell, during the first few years of his sentence, all he felt was rage.

Rage at Bryce for killing his father and destroying any chance he would ever have of making him proud.

Rage at his father for treating him like a stranger in public and like garbage at home.

Rage at his mother for passing away and leaving him with someone who would never love him.

Rage at his classmates for ruthlessly teasing and abusing him.

And rage at himself for allowing all of that to happen.

Bobby swore, as soon as he got out, as soon as he was adopted by a family who actually wanted him, he would find Bryce Tankthrust – the catalyst for the single worst day of his life – and drive a stake through that empty cavity she called a chest.

Some say that there is a thin line between Hate and Love, and for Bobby, that line was nearly microscopic. There were days where he would close his eyes and imagine the sun on his face, the grass on his legs, and her hand in his.

There were nights where he would hear her laughter and see her grinning over at him from across the jungle gym.

All it took was one person to give him a chance. Maybe she did it out of pity or because she knew he would bend the knee and do anything she asked of him, but Bobby didn’t care then. It was the only shred of kindness anyone had ever shown him, regardless of ulterior motive.

“ _She was so profound_.” He wrote out, tears welling in his eyes. “ _She was my everything_.”

Bobby chewed at the eraser of his pencil and frowned at his own words. That was the Bryce he loved. The Bryce he wanted to remember. Except the memory of her rushing his father and driving a blade into his gut was glaring red and dangerous. Dare he admit that he was angry he hadn’t done it first?

No…despite everything, he missed his father. The man was a bastard, but Bobby was completely alone now. More alone than he’d been in his entire life, serving a sentence for a crime that he hadn’t even committed while the real killer roamed free; probably making other boys fall in love with her so she could fuck them over the same way…and never visit.

No, killing her gave him a purpose.

_“One day, I will have my revenge on Bryce Tankthrust. She better sleep with one eye open because I’m getting out of here the second a family wants to adopt me.”_

* * *

As Bryce scowled at the pink and red hearts decorating the walls of her office, the Elmer heart inside her chest grew more and more bitter. Ever since her ex-lover had given her the one gift she couldn’t send back…and then mysteriously “disappeared” after declaring her a, quote, “unlovable, cold-hearted cunt” she’d hated this holiday more than any other.

Baby vomit didn’t easily come out of linen and silk.

His name was Robert and he was…well, he was a baby. And then a toddler. Part of Bryce hated herself for being unable to love the child like the mothers she saw in public. She thought that it might all come together when she held him in her arms for the first time. It was the moment all mothers seemed to speak of with peace and longing, but Bryce felt little more than pride.

She’d made that. A little human with fantastic genes who would never want for anything. But she didn’t feel the tug in her chest or the connection that she was told about. Robert was a stranger to her; and she knew he could feel it.

Her son was well-behaved, it was true, but outside of operating within the same large home, their scheduled interactions were limited. When she had attempted to hold him; to feed him or whatever one did with an infant, he just cried. He wouldn’t stop until Bryce handed him off and that hadn’t changed.

So if she couldn’t even buy his love – with expensive toys, clothing, and food – who else would dare?

This year, like every year before, she hadn’t even received one lousy card. Not even from her precious little Elmer army.

She took their hearts, though. In a way, it was similar to receiving a Valentine several times a month, even if she did use them up and throw them away.

It wouldn’t hurt, she supposed, to hire a boyfriend this year. There were plenty of men who would bend to her every whim; some on speed-dial even, and it would be a charity. Bryce was a woman of authority and fortune and it was good, every now and then, to give to the less fortunate. For a service, of course. She wasn’t in the habit of giving free money.

How much could love be worth? Half a million?

* * *

Bobby paced the floor of his cell, chewing at his nails as he went over his evil plans once again. He was going to get back at the world for treating him like garbage, tossing him away, and forgetting about him. One day, they would all know the name Bobby Worst and know that it was he that brought about the end of their cruel world. 

And Bryce would suffer with them. More if he could help it. He wanted to watch the life drain from her body and watch as that intelligent spark faded from her deep…chocolate eyes.

_FUCK_

Bobby slammed his palms against the iron bars and then tried flipping his bed. However, it was securely bolted down; something that had been done to it just a couple months after he was sentenced. He always seemed to forget that in the heat of the moment.

“Agggh it’s not fair!” He cried out behind grit teeth and then sank down onto the floor.

And it wasn’t. Why would he still be in love with the girl who had put him here and caused him so much pain? Why couldn’t he just hate her like any normal person would?

“It’s not fair,” he muttered at himself, wrapping his arms around his knees and picking at a thread on his striped sleeve.

* * *

If Bryce still had a heart when she discovered that Bobby had escaped prison, it would have stopped for a moment.

It was front page news and she’d read it on a newspaper on her way into work. Bryce snatched the paper out of an old man’s hands and quickly scanned the story with wild eyes.

“Shit!” The old man had gasped, “try me, bitch.”

Instead, Bryce shoved the newspaper against his ugly yellow sweater-vest and stormed in to the elevator and then to her office, ignoring the whispers of her Elmer employees and the eyes of her little sister.

Bryce paced the floor and then stood at the window, looking down at the little ant-people below. Just when she was about to take a couple Xanax, the phone rang.

“Ms. Tankthrust? There’s a man here insisting on adopting a baby. It’s the persistent one.”

Bryce nearly crushed the phone in her grip, but kept her voice even and authoritative. “Send him to the big room with the table-”

“The conference room?” The Elmer on the other end asked.

“Yes, whatever. Send him back. I’ll deal with it.” She slammed the phone down and then rubbed lightly at her chest. The surprise really had done some damage. She’d need a new one if she wanted to be convincing.

Bryce cracked her neck slightly and then went on a search for the fresh hearts, prepared to get this over with.

Then, she would decide what to do about Bobby Best.

* * *

When Bryce woke up, she was in a cell, lying atop a hard cot. Was this Hell? The last thing she remembered was looking down the barrel of a gun, held by a fucking baby. Baby Elmer; a name she’d decided to keep after stealing him from his true mother.

She didn't _enjoy_ ripping a child from his mother’s arms, but she’d been without a heart for nearly a month and it was a struggle to even get out of bed some mornings. She was weak, like a fourth stage cancer patient continuing to breathe out of spite.

In a way, that was exactly what she was living for.

By the time the first Elmer heart was ready, it had to be placed inside her chest cavity by Robert, who begged his nearly comatose mother to stay with him despite having been completely distant from him for most of his little life.

When the heart was shoved inside her chest, it was as if Bryce had done a bump of coke and drank 5 of her favorite double, half-sweet, non-fat caramel macchiato’s.

However, she now felt as if she’d been run over by a truck…and then again as it backed over her lifeless corpse.

It felt so similar to the moment when Bobby lost his lunch all over her heart. That crushing, hollowed-out, desperate, clawing, _pain_.

“Hello!?” She called out, eyes desperately darting back and forth, taking in her surroundings, searching for weaknesses. “Hello, where am I?” She didn’t want to sound vulnerable. Even now, she had to remain strong.

"Hello Bryce,“ the voice came suddenly from the dark, where a man with platinum hair and a bored expression peered at her from the other side of the bars.

"Hi, would you kindly explain what’s happening here?” Bryce gave him her most “pleasant” grin; one that barely hid her confusion and boiling rage.

“I resurrected you,” he answered, and suddenly, Bryce knew exactly who this man was, standing there, staring at her with only malice in his eyes and a sparkling notebook under his chin. “With this.”

At one time, he’d been her greatest creation; not because she loved him at all, but because this clone had a heart that would be compatible with her body. He was the first in a long line of Elmer clones who had all… _reluctantly_ donated their very beating hearts.

“I’ll be damned, is that my first Elmer?” Her voice sounded almost fond. To say they had a history would be the understatement of the century. “Glad to see you could walk again, and you said that me kneecapping you would _ruin_ your dance career. _Oh_ , how you _screamed_ in pain.”

It was true; the removal of an Elmer’s heart did not entirely remove the person inside. Some of her creations still held an interest for things like nature, theater, and - god forbid - art. But whatever kept them silent and complacent was fine with Bryce, just as long as they showed up to work on time and made her filthy _fucking_ rich.

Her first Elmer displayed the most personality and had the strongest heart of any Elmer she’d ever made concurrently. She let him keep it, in a rare moment of motherly kindness or whatever, however as he discovered his love of interpretive dance, she could see that the boy was…stifled. He assured her that he was completely devoted to her; “like a son to his mother” (she never put much stock on that) but had tried to run away just a couple of weeks later. To Broadway, or what have you.

When Bryce broke his knees, she felt nothing but vindication. He’d tried to outwit and out-manipulate her.

As Elmer cried in pain, for just a moment, she thought she’d felt something; almost like a vibration or a…tear somewhere in her chest. It was the first shimmer of empathy she’d had since she was seven and it made her nauseous.

That night, Bryce ordered an army of Elmer clones be made and with each subsequent heart she stole, that tiny twinge of emotion faded. She’d “breed” it out of them if she had to.

Bryce watched as hate flashed in Elmer’s eyes, a sure sign that things were not good for her.

She was _fucked_ , and not in the fun way. 

* * *

After escaping prison, Bobby Worst did whatever the fuck he wanted to do. He fucked anything that walked…or crawled as well as various fruits and maybe some things that were not made to be fucked. Whatever, he’d put his dick in anything, because he was Bobby Worst; the absolute worst version of a human being he could ever conceive of. And he’d had a lot of time to think about that.

His diabolical plan was going to turn everyone into the worst versions of themselves. He would simply set off a nuclear bomb and whoever made it out alive would be just as fucked up and shitty as he’d felt for so many years.

And if everything went to plan, Bryce Tankthrust would be caught in the blast. If it didn’t kill her, she would become soft, compassionate, and weak. The worst version of herself.

He could only hope she’d been lonely and miserable her entire life, but from the interviews he’d seen, she had more cash than several countries combined and she was never without a man who could dick her down. While he’d been stuck in a cell, pissed off and dreaming of revenge, Bryce had become the wealthiest and most powerful woman in the country, possibly the world.

She also mentioned that he was the skeleton in her closet and for a moment, it seemed like there was something behind her eyes. _Regret_? He’d replayed that moment again and again, pausing it on her face and searching for anything that said she thought about him.

Of course, she could have been talking about _any_ "skeleton" in any prison (who knew how many men she’d fucked over). Was he really so foolish to believe she even remembered him? That he was so important for her to regret that day for most of her life?

Bobby grit his teeth as he stared at those cold brown eyes, nearly crushing the remote in his hand. “Suck! Swallow! Set up the computer! I have a message for the _world_." 

* * *

Bryce hadn’t seen the sunlight in so long. For days she was forced to kill herself and then was brought back only to do it again. She had died in every single way possible and she’d felt fear for the first time since she was a child.

She was strong until she no longer could be.

"No wait stop, Elmer, please, I can’t take this anymore!” Her hand shook as she stretched it out to him, begging her tormentor for mercy though she knew she didn’t deserve it and probably would not get it.

That audacity made her eldest Elmer pause, walking toward her with a glint in his eye so awful and so evil that she swore he’d adopted her own way of survival. He was _enjoying_ this. 

The momentary distraction - his anger and vindication - was all she needed to snatch the all-powerful “Shit book” and pen, snapping both of Elmer’s twig legs once again with the flick of a wrist. Once again, her entire body vibrated with power; power over her enemy, the smallest taste of freedom.

Until she discovered that even godly notebooks of infinite power had a limited number of pages. _Oh_ the things she could have used that book for.

Elmer had had his fun with her and now, they were going to execute her. As she stared down the barrel of the gun in her face, she refused to allow them to see _anything_. Regret, fear, hopelessness, grief; it all swirled inside her, but her eyes were glassy and cold.

She always thought that it might come to this, though she always imagined the person on the other end of that barrel would be _him_.

It said a lot of Bryce that she would be happier to have been killed by his hand than to never see him again.

She tried to picture his face, but the only reference she had of him was the smiling face of a seven year old boy and the one very blurry mugshot.

“Last words?” The Elmer holding the gun asked.

Bryce tilted her head back and gave him her brightest, winning smile. “Get fucked, shitbag.”

“How eloquent.” Elmer said with a stony resolve.

Yet, at the last moment, the door to her lonely cell slid open with a hiss and the execution was called off by the very Elmer who had ordered her death. For now.

* * *

So there she remained, wrists chained to the walls, waiting for days on days for whenever the world needed her.

They say solitary confinement can break even the strongest of minds, and she had definitely had her weak moments in that cell, wishing even for the torture to continue if it meant having any sort of human interaction.

With her head hung low, she closed her eyes and wondered how baby Elmer was doing in the care of that closeted nitwit, Sam, and his disturbed vampire of a roommate…god, that had to be 17 years ago now. Did he remember anything?

Briefly, her mind wandered to Robert. Her only living relative; her continued bloodline. What would he do with her companies? Her amassed fortune? Was he happy?

In her weakest moment, her mind was stuck on a replay of that day with Bobby Best. The last, beautiful time she’d ever felt anything. The horrible last moments she’d had with him; leaving him heartbroken and confused. She wondered if he ever thought about her, all alone in his prison cell, and if he was still angry with her. She wondered if there might have ever been a chance for them. If he might have broken this door down and slaughtered the Elmer army to save her if circumstances were different.

Bryce hissed as the stolen heart in her body gave a squeeze.

* * *

When Elmer rolled back into her cell, followed by a kid who couldn’t be more than 29, explaining that the world had been blown to shit and he needed her help, she couldn’t help but be amused. How dare he tell her what her purpose was? She knew exactly what she’d been put on this earth for and it wasn’t to carry out some bastard’s suicide mission. As soon as she was free, she was ripping his fucking heart out and eating it whole, right in front of him and any blonde bastard who tried to stop her. 

But then he dropped the biggest “fuck you” yet.

It was Bobby. Bobby Best. _Her_ Bobby.

Apparently, he was Bobby _Worst_ now - an evil bastard who had escaped prison and done all sorts of mildly horrible things until he finally managed to end the world. Oh, and he was on his way to kill her.

Bryce’s snarky smile dropped from her face, and with a force enough to drop a bear, ripped the chains from the wall and stormed out into the bunker.

Unfortunately, the heart in her chest had been long since shriveled and useless and she dropped like a bag of bricks, crying out with the pain. It had taken too much. She wouldn’t make it. Not even to Bobby’s feet. And she still needed to get that stupid time machine.

“I’m too weak,” she explained, clutching at her chest. “I’m gonna need a new heart.”

Elmer didn’t believe her. “You need to Get. Up.”

“I ain’t gonna make it 20 yards outside this _stupid_ bunker without dying.” She tried to explain. Why would they weaken their only hope?

“Yeah, but what’s ‘bunker’ mean, though?” The kid standing behind Elmer’s wheelchair asked…was this guy serious?

“Shut. Up.” Bryce demanded, slapping the floor with her palm. “I need a new heart and I want yours.”

Elmer just looked bored. “You can have one of the other Elmers’.”

“I want _yours_ , Professor X, and I wanna watch it come out of your body.” It was only fair. Sure, she’d been cruel to him, but she’d never killed him. Not this Elmer specifically. And he had killed her. _Many_ times.

There was a loud knock on the heavy bunker door, the other Elmer clones announcing the obvious arrival of a guest and working to unlatch and open the door as Bryce and their eldest argued over the possession of his heart.

Time was growing slim. He would have to make a quick decision and that’s what she was counting on.

The sudden burst of gunfire made Bryce jump and duck behind the chair. For a moment, everything was chaos. She didn’t have time to stop and think about the voice she’d just heard. She knew it was him. _Of course_ it was him. But she wasn’t yet ready to face him. Didn’t know if her weak heart could take it.

While Bobby descended upon Elmer in the chaos, Bryce and Blame - apparently that was the kid’s name - slipped out of the door and she earned a pop in the nose for her troubles.

Sure, hearing Bobby’s voice demanding to know where she was after years of wondering if he even remembered her was fucking her up a little bit. That, paired with the failing organ in her chest made her a little testy. A bit feral. And it didn’t take much for her to snap at Blame about the hazmat suit he was complaining about wearing. When he offered her the Elmer heart in his hand, she latched onto it like a hungry widow spider did its prey, shoving it inside her chest with a shudder.

It wouldn’t last long out there, but it was better than nothing. 

* * *

Bryce was absolutely disgusted with the state of the world. The green assholes she’d met on the outside were even worse than she’d been rumored to be while she was the reigning CEO of multiple Fortune 500 companies. Even the low-income, tattooed heathen she was stuck with seemed like better company. If anyone wanted to know if she’d grown soft on the boy, they could eat a dick and choke on it.

But she did feel a bit bad when they stumbled across the bodies of his friends, giving him a moment alone with them to say his goodbye’s. They were all so young; probably just around her own son’s age. It was a shame, really.

As she roamed the Corn Hole Café, she could hear Blame speaking words of love to his friends and she wondered what it must feel like to lose someone like that, or to care if she did.

“Hey assholes!” Bryce’s head whipped around to the door so fast she rocked a bit in her heels. How the _fuck_ did he find them?

“The _lesbian_..” She muttered to herself, suddenly regretting not killing her when she had the chance.

“Come out here with your hands up and we’ll fuck you _with lube_!” Bobby and his disgusting little henchmen laughed to themselves. What was it with villains and laughing like maniacs? 

Rolling her eyes, Bryce made her way back over to Blame, stepping over bodies as she went, but the idiot had decided to antagonize the assholes outside instead of staying quiet and going over a plan.

There was a series of several gunshots and Blame ducked out of Suck’s line of fire, crawling quickly toward the time machine they’d come for in the first place.

Bryce knew what she had to do.

40 years imagining and going over this very moment were thrown directly out of the window. Fuck what Elmer said, _this_ was her purpose. Bobby was her beginning and her end.

“Don’t hurt the boy, Bobby. It’s _me_ you’re after, remember?” She slowly made her way out of the café, putting herself between Bobby and Blame, her hands raised in surrender. She wasn’t even going to try to fight this. “It’s _me_ you nuked this entire fucking planet trying to destroy and yet, here I am, _standing_ like a boner.”

Bobby actually looked…hurt, which was what she was afraid of. Those damn sad fucking eyes - until they filled with rage.

“Nothing ever goes my way!” He cried, every bit as much the pissed off seven-year-old he used to be.

“I got access to a time machine,” She bargained, gesturing over her shoulder, “We can go back and fix all this. Not just the apocalypse but… _everything_ , Bobby.” She wanted that more than she’d ever wanted anything. Standing here, seeing him again, she realized that he was the piece missing from her life; his absence in her life the reason she was so miserable. She hadn’t realized just how fucking much she missed Bobby until he was right in front of her. All she wanted to do was go to him; maybe…hug him. It was all very confusing and uncomfortable. 

Bobby was the one who got away and she had no one to blame but herself. But she had a chance to fix that. To keep him in her life and keep him out of prison. To have him forever.

“I’m sorry, Bryce.” He seemed to hesitate, bouncing on his feet like he did when he was anxious. Did he…have tears in his eyes? “But I waited forty _goddamn_ years in prison for this fuckin’ moment, now I’m gonna skin you like a goddamn pig!”

Bryce was almost disappointed. Not surprised though; prison did awful things to the mind. Bobby was a child when he entered the system; and an innocent child at that. She was the reason he’d grown up that way and he’d had a long time to ruminate in his hate.

She sighed, the smile on her face waning with the ache she felt in her chest. A hollow, awful kind of pain. She knew exactly where this was going. They wouldn’t get a happy ending.

“Well _shit_ , I figured as much.” She turned back toward the café where she’d heard the door creak open softly. “Get out of here now, Blame!”

“Yeah, but what about you, dawg?” How sweet. He was actually concerned about her safety. It would figure that she’d gain some attachment to humanity when she was prepared to leave it.

“ _This_ is my purpose,” she told him and then scooped up the rifle at her feet, pointing it directly at the green man in front of her. He had a knife. He planned to murder her and make it personal.

* * *

Bobby took a step back, brows furrowed, holding the knife out in front of him warily. He was terrified to admit that his feelings toward Bryce had never really changed. He had missed her and now here she was. Was he prepared to lose her again?

Would she do it? Would she use the gun on him? If her interviews were anything to go by, Bryce Tankthrust was an absolute force of power. She was not to be underestimated or to be fucked with. At this point, Bobby wasn’t sure what to expect.

There were gunshots from the café behind her, where the boy she’d been protecting had disappeared, but Bryce didn’t even flinch. Her focus was narrowed, and it was all on him. The force of it was crushing.

Could he do it? Could he actually take a knife to her?

* * *

Bryce’s hands tightened and then loosed on the rifle at least three times. No matter what she did, she could not make her finger tighten on that trigger. A heat bubbled up inside her and everything came rushing out all at once. “ _DAMMIT_!” She cried in anguish, dropping the gun from Bobby’s face. “I can’t do it!”

She stared at the ground, ashamed of the guilt; the weakness she felt for Bobby. Even now.

“I thought I was heartless, but there still seems to be people I can’t bring myself to kill.” It didn’t matter what Bobby did to the world or even to her; she wouldn’t take the first shot.

* * *

Bobby let out a small breath of relief when Bryce dropped the nose of the rifle.

She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t hurt him.

It almost made him reconsider what he was about to do. It almost made him drop the knife and run to take her hand. To live out the rest of their days as the worst living couple in existence. _Almost._

“Well then allow me!”

* * *

The next thing Bryce felt was the plunge of metal in her abdomen, and then three more just like it. And then heat, more intense than she could ever fathom. There was so much blood and so much pain. She was dying; she’d died enough times to know it immediately.

“You stupiiiiiiid _cunt_!” Bobby gloated, kneeling over her to laugh in her face. Bryce coughed with the pain, blood leaking from her parted lips. “You call yourself _evil_. You couldn’t even kill _me_ and I’m a _fucking terrorist_!”

“You’re right,” Bryce sighed, meeting Bobby’s eyes. She was resigned to her fate now, but that didn’t mean she had to do it alone, “I just need a little push.” Bryce ripped the hazmat suit from her face and took a deep inhale of the radioactive oxygen around them. Immediately, her skin flushed a deep green, altering and corrupting her very cells, turning her into someone who could actually kill the love of her life.

Bryce lifted the blade from her stomach, watching as it slid out of her flesh covered in her blood. Bobby held her wrist the entire time, eyes wide and full of fear. He knew, as well, where this was going.

As Bobby screamed about the deep injustice of it all, Bryce plunged the blade into his torso; once, twice…and then four more times, crying out as if it was killing her too. The pain she felt was much more than just physical. It ripped at her insides and squeezed at her throat. She didn’t want this. No matter what Bobby did to her, she never wanted to hurt him. But to save this disgusting planet, she needed to bring down the very worst of the assholes inhabiting it.

Bryce rolled onto her back beside her childhood friend who was staring up at the smog-hidden sky above them as they both gasped and choked on their last remaining breaths. Bryce watched his face, wishing that he might reach out and take her hand in these final few moments.

“You know what’s crazy?” Bobby forced out between gasps. “Every decision we’ve ever made has led to this moment.”

Bryce felt herself relax into the grass as she laughed warmly. He _remembered_. He remembered what she'd said to him on that day, forty-something years ago, as they lay in the grass and grinned at one another. Her fingers searched in the dead grass between them, just as they had on that day, hoping to feel his curl around them just like she'd wanted back then.

Bryce felt her heart give out when she heard Bobby take his last breath. Her eyes lost their focus and she imagined what life might have been had they been able to start over.

Bobby had once been the most important person in Bryce’s life. More than the son she’d named after him. More than her own living, breathing sister.

In another world, perhaps, Bryce would have taken Bobby’s hand and they would have run away together. They might have fallen in love; genuinely and immensely. She might have become the most powerful woman in the world – _president_ , even – supported at every step by her super-hot, super-villain boyfriend.

In another world, maybe they’d have started a little evil family of their own – she’d always liked the name Delmar (would they even make good parents??). Maybe they’d have a wedding on the roof of a skyscraper and start their honeymoon by blowing some shit up.

Maybe they’d be happy.

And she’d never need to steal a heart again, because she’d already have one freely given.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> * I realized after writing this that Helen and Bryce are not actually sisters in this universe but I can’t be bothered to change it. They are sisters in this fic, though it doesn’t really change the story. If you know Helen, growing up with Bryce Tankthrust as an older sister would explain a lot.
> 
> * Bryce does have a son, mentioned only once and briefly. The biological father is unknown and he does not currently have a name. It doesn’t seem like he and Bryce are close. In my fic, I named him Robert (after Bobby T-T), BUT I have since decided that Delmar Lysol (from Brandon’s video, Family Friendly Halloween) could have only come from the loins and environment of these two fucked up assholes, so he’s their son…in another timeline.
> 
> * This is NOT a healthy relationship (then again, is anyone healthy in the BRCU??) but Bryce and Bobby are villains for a reason. They’re assholes. To everyone. Everyone in this universe is an asshole (except for precious Sam, I do believe, though he has his moments)


End file.
